Jump Over The Candle Stick
by barbieQUE
Summary: Four angst-ridden teenagers on the path to discovery or greatness or whatever. Finding your sole purpose is hard - that's why you have so many eventful parties on the way. [Please read and review]
1. Ryan: For Any Other Info, Click Here

   --**For those of you with short memories, let's cover the bases**-- 

Disclaimer: I do not own the O.C. I am not in any way affiliated with the actors, producers, writers, etc. All I own is my thoughts, the plot and the new character, yet to be uncovered by you guys. Enjoy. 

Title: Jump Over The Candle Stick 

Rating: PG-13 [There might occasionally be some language, drug use - i.e. cigarettes, alcohol, and sexual references. If anyone of the previous things offend you, I am sorry but you have been warned] 

Summary: Four angst-ridden teenagers on the path to discovery or greatness or whatever. Finding your soul purpose in life might be hard. That's why you have so many eventful parties on the way. [Please read and review] 

Chapter One: Ryan: For Any Other Information, Click Here 

--**-- 

   I was being polite. That was a first. For no money, or any other circumstances, of course. But when you get taken by teen-rebel turned kind-hearted father along with his cool and humorless wife, and son with no sense of when to stop talking, you honestly go out of your way to be nice to them. Especially the wife. Now, she's one tough cookie to crack. As soon as I met her I knew she wasn't one to be messed with. It wasn't being smart, it was being observant. Her name was Kirsten. Her name, alone, was to show that she wasn't going to put up with my never-ending bullshit. That, and the fact it took me a few times in front of the mirror to pronounce it correctly. 

   It was dinner time in the Cohen house. Now, that would've never been said in Chino. Mom would've just slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the table - or box whatever we were using - and said, "Get some McDonald's. Your head looks like an over-sized tomato on that body of yours." Oh yes, I remember it well. I probably would have argued with her about it until the cows came home, but she was technically right. Until I'd gotten a few decent meals into me, my head did look like an over-sized tomato on my body. I never told her that, of course. There's one thing worse than buying my mother fifty dollars worth of alcohol; telling her she's right, while watching her drink the fifty dollars worth of alcohol. That was just something I never let myself do. 

   Seth sat down next to me and smiled. I felt like I'd been slapped in the face. Not because a smile feels like a slap in the face, but no one's ever smiled over something as simple over Friday night dinner. People don't smile because they're not grounded or because their favorite television show is on in an hour. People smile when they haven't been punched all week or have enough money to buy more than four groceries at the supermarket. At least, where I come from anyway. But here, people are just happy. Something else I just have to get used to. 

   "Ryan." I was being summoned without the cigarette smoke being blown in my face. "Ryan, could you help me with this lamb? It's awfully heavy." I was being summoned to carry the lamb. Oh, life was grand. 

   Kirsten handed me the plate carrying the big monstrosity of the dinner we were about to eat. I carried it with ease and set it down on the table, and noticed Seth lick his lips in anticipation. That made me realize I was starved. I slumped back into my seat, and relaxed against the chair. That's right. These chairs were comfortable. God, I love this new lifestyle.

   Sandy came into the dining room. He looked exhausted. Probably working on a new case. Not mine, I thought with a grin. I'm clear. Nothing else to pin on me now. "Ryan, can I speak to you for a moment?" 

   "Ah, yeah." Great. Maybe I spoke to soon. Maybe some dead guy's turned up with my fingerprints all over him. Not that I'm saying I killed some dead guy. Or alive guy. Or previously alive guy. Again, great. I've gone ahead and made myself even more confused in less than three seconds. Atwood, you're truly magical. 

   Sandy leads me into the living room. He looks around and sees Seth, before leading us outside towards the pool house. We pass Seth on the way out. He waves. That makes Sandy even more nervous. 

   Finally, we stop. I think he believes we're safe since he realizes Seth can't hear us through glass. "OK. OK. Look, it's Seth's birthday in a week." 

   I knew that. Seth told me last night. Or more accurately, he told me what he wanted last night. Somehow, I don't believe they're currently putting price tags on Pam Anderson. I nodded at Sandy. "So ..." 

   "I want to throw him a party. A surprise party. And since you're his only friend." He stops. It may be true, but it's not particularly nice to hear something like that. "Since you're his good friend. I want you to make sure he doesn't find out. I'll organize everything, but I resting the timing and place on you. OK?" 

   I nodded. It seems easy enough. 

   "All right. All right. Excellent. I'll, uh, see you inside." With that he begins to walk off. Suddenly, he looks back. "Should we go in together, or should you come in like five minutes later?" 

   "Let's go for Plan C," I advised. 

   "What's that?" 

   "Where we didn't do anything remotely bad or anything anyone, except for that weird Party Planners store, would find unacceptable. I think we should just walk in. No harm, no foul." 

   "Dangerous, but it could work." 

   I followed Sandy into the house, without a care in the world. That was until Seth announced halfway through dinner, "You should've come in separately, Party Dudes." 

   I can safely say we'll never vouch for Plan C again. 

--**-- 

[So sorry it's short. But I'm establishing what I want for now. I know this doesn't explain the plot and other characters very well, but every chapter it will be in someone else's POV. Just saying, that Ryan won't be the voice of the story the whole way through. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Please review. My life absolutely depends on it. I hope you liked it. Thanks for reading - and hopefully reviewing] 


	2. Seth: Hi, I'm Seth Not A Geek

--**For those of you with short memories, let's cover the bases**-- 

Disclaimer: I do not own the O.C. I am not in any way affiliated with the actors, producers, writers, etc. All I own is my thoughts, the plot and the new character, yet to be uncovered by you guys. Enjoy. 

Title: Jump Over The Candle Stick 

Rating: PG-13 [There might occasionally be some language, drug use - i.e. cigarettes, alcohol, and sexual references. If anyone of the previous things offends you, I am sorry but you have been warned] 

Summary: Four angst-ridden teenagers on the path to discovery or greatness or whatever. Finding your soul purpose in life might be hard. That's why you have so many eventful parties on the way. [Please read and review]

Chapter Two: Seth: Hi, I'm Seth - Not a Geek 

--**-- 

   My dad has unsuccessfully planned five surprise birthday parties. He started when I was twelve, and decided my love for alternative music should be rewarded. He tried to hire The Clash impersonators. Actually, to put it more accurately - he did hire The Clash impersonators. However, it didn't go as well as he had planned. It turned out then was more than one person - my mother - who could not put on an English accent to save their lives. It would also help if they could actually sing. That and sing the right lyrics. Somehow I don't imagine 'London Falling' was a hit.

   Well, it doesn't help that the party absolutely sucked, but I think the surprise at the beginning ruined it all. I had just had my first embarrassing moment in front of a far less evil Summer and wasn't at all in the mood for parties. Especially surprise parties. And especially because this party wasn't a surprise. I was smart as a pre-teen. I was quite able to complete eighth grade math work, and so I believed I was also quite able to suss out whether a surprise party was being thrown in my house. That and the fact that my best friend at the time had complained that the were going to be no alcohol at my twelve year old surprise birthday party. Yeah. That kind of gave it away. 

   So. I'm twelve. I'm on the verge of 'manhood'. I had just had an extremely embarrassing moment in front of Summer and her posse. I'm coming home to my welcoming bed, when I remember - my dad was planning me a surprise party. I had to act surprised. Half of me felt bad that and I wanted to make dad happy and the other half ... well, let's just say I wasn't going to be launching into song anytime soon. 

   I arrive home. The living room lights are slightly dimmed, and I can see the outline of half my class. Even if I didn't know about the party, I probably would've guessed by now. Dad turns on the lights. Everyone jumps up and yells the traditional 'Surprise!' Then I surprise them all. I knock their expensive shoes right off their feet, before not leaving them anyone time to catch their breath. I tell my dad, the maid, my sixth grade homeroom - and The Clash impersonators to "Fuck off." 

   From then on I knew I was grounded. But my punishment was to sit through The Clash impersonators set of horrible, horrible songs. In my opinion they were horrible. In my dad's opinion they were great. That was why I grounded for the next six months. And Dad still didn't have enough sense not to throw me a surprise party the year after. And the year after that. And the year after that, and so on. 

   I was turning seventeen years of age next week. As it turned out, my father had decided to drag Ryan along this time. Oh, will he ever learn? I think not. Will he be surprised when I arrive home on my twenty-first absolutely hammered. Oh, I say again. I think not. 

   Dinner was well and truly digested. Ryan was desperate to scope out Marissa - except for the fact that he swore to me that he wasn't stalking her. I know I shouldn't judge. Summer. Oh, Summer. Just the name alone makes me act like a convicted stalker. Luckily, I am not a felon. There is only enough room for one of those in our house. 

   "Seth." 

   "Stalker. You want to borrow my night vision goggles?" 

   Ryan laughed. Then he stopped. "You have night vision goggles?" 

   "No. Joke, man." For future reference: hide the night vision goggles. 

   "OK. Seth, I need help." 

   I turned around and looked at him. "Like school help? I may be a geek, but I'm not a smart geek." I chuckled nervously. "Yeah. Those ones are weird." 

   "No. Girl help." 

   That made me laugh. I let out a long laugh. Ryan Atwood, Mr. Smooth, was asking me for girl help. I didn't even know about girls until I found my Dad's Penthouse magazine. 

   "Sorry, man. I'm not the one to ask about this stuff," I told him. I felt sort of bad for him then. He had taken his eye's off Marissa for just a few seconds to come all the way upstairs into my room, only to be told he needed to ask someone else. The next best thing would be my Dad. God, that would be a laugh. 

   "Actually, I'm going for hard to get," he began. "You ignored Marissa all those years, tell me how you did it." 

   Finally, something I can answer. "Ah ... the art of ignorance. You have come to the right place, my friend." I paused and started to remember the first time I had saw Marissa. I had been so nervous that when she waved I fell off my skateboard - at the time I couldn't skate to save myself - and ran back into the house. That was pretty much where the geek thing started. 

   "All right. All right. When she waves or starts up a conversation - nod at her existence, but don't reply." 

   "But won't that make me seem like a total jack-ass?" he asked. Yes. It would. But I don't tell him that. Well, not in those words. 

   "Don't girls always fall for the jack-asses? I mean, look at her and Luke." 

   "Luke's history," he told me. "I saw her burning photos of them together outside last night." 

   I stared at him in disbelief. "And you didn't help her?" 

   "Believe me, man. It took every fiber of my being not to go down there and watch them burn." He sighed and banged his head against the door. "One day. One day." 

   "You know, Ryan? You're becoming obsessive," I point out. 

   "Really?" 

   "Nope. You're just weird." 

   There is comfortable silence between us. Suddenly, I remember something. "You know, Marissa had a sister." 

   Ryan raised his eyebrows. "She died?" 

   "She left. Mrs. Cooper sent her to England." 

   "Why?" Oh, story time. Ryan is genuinely interested. 

   "She was out of control. Actually, no, in Orange County rules, she was out of control. I thought she was just fine. And, no, not in that way." I looked at Ryan, who seemed to be processing this information. 

   Suddenly, he spoke. "Mrs. Cooper sent her to England? So, she thought this sister would be converted by tea and biscuits?" 

   I laughed. "I guess so." 

   Another silence.

   "Seth?" 

   "That's my name. Oh, God, that was dumb." 

   "Why'd you tell me that?" 

   "Oh, the sister thing? Just in case you decide to bring up the 'So, any other siblings?' line. You'll just know what you're getting into. The sister and little old Marissa were kind of close." 

   "What was her name?" 

   "Jack." 

   Ryan smirked. "As in Jack and Jill?" 

   "No, as in Jack Jumped Over The Candle Stick." I rolled my eyes. Something I hadn't done in a few years. "It was short for Jacqueline." 

   "Oh. Thanks for that. I feel smarter." 

   "And I feel dumber. We should do it again sometime." 

   "Agreed." 

   Ryan paused and then began down the stairs. "Hey, Seth?" 

   "Yes." 

   "You really suck at giving advice." 

   "Thank you. I'm sure there's a compliment in there somewhere. Goodbye." 

   "Bye Seth." 

   Another heart-felt moment in the Cohen house. Don't you just live for those?

[Hey guys! Or whoever is reading this. OK, that's it for now. And I must say I really like the explaining sister part of this chapter, but I felt it was necessary. I'm sorry if you found it to cliché, but it will get better! Loads and loads better! Please review, because I don't want to waste time over this story. Thanks for reading] 


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